


On the Throne

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Master/Servant, PWP, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 23:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Harrow wants to see Viren on the throne.Or rather, bent over it.





	On the Throne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fishnbacon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishnbacon/gifts).



> I promised twitter I'd write this c':  
> Will link my twitter :@goblinwrites (which has ways to support me, for anyone interested!)

The room was empty, but it didn't stop Viren from feeling like there were a thousand eyes on him; his skin prickled, sweat creeping down his spine in a slow crawl.  
"I said, bend over, Viren. Don't you trust me?" Harrow's breathe washed warm over the shell of his ear, and Viren swallowed heavily, throat suddenly dry.

"It's improper," he protested, voice unsteady. 

"I could make it an order," Harrow suggested lightly. Viren could feel the smirk against his skin, Harrow's smugness like a physical touch. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being ordered to do something so profane. To debase yourself for your King."

Viren shivered, skin growing hot at his words, a flush rising across his face. He could feel his neck warmer, knew Harrow could see it. Harrow stepped closer to home, until his chest was pressed against Viren's back, and he spoke his filthy words right into Viren's ear.

His heat soaked into Viren's thick clothing. Despite how warm he was, he was shaking. Harrow gently took hold of Viren's hips, pulling them back until his ass was nestled against Harrow's hips.

He could feel how hard his King was.

"I want you to bend over the throne, Viren. Unless you'd rather sit on it?"

He shook his head quickly, then realized he had inadvertently agreed to the first option. Harrow ground against him, pleased with himself, and Viren groaned at the contact, uncomfortably hard in the tight confines of his own pants. His bad leg shook. 

"Now, Viren," ordered Harrow softly. 

He went. It was impossible not to, Harrow had a quiet impossible force. Viren staggered away, staff clanging harshly as he caught himself. He was breathing fast; glancing at the door, then at Harrow, he crossed to the throne. 

He set aside his staff, and slowly bent until his hands were braced on the arms.

Behind him, Harrow tutted.  
"On the seat, Viren. Bend and brace your elbows on the seat."

Viren looked back sharply. If he did that-   
He swallowed again, colouring further until his face felt like it was in flames.   
He bent again, lowering his upper body. It was awkward, and he had to shuffle his legs apart to keep the stance. The sweat running down his back changed direction, and his shoulders became damp with it.   
His jacket was tight, restrictive. The maroon cape lay uncomfortably crumbled against his neck, stiffly hot. 

He was so aroused. 

Viren shut his eyes tight, biting down on his tongue to keep from giving himself away. 

Harrow's foot steps were soft in the large, empty room, but they rung out in his mind. Viren flinched forward at the gentle touch of Harrow's hand along his clothed ass; his King ignored his reaction, stroking from the top of his inner thigh, to the smell of his ass. He paused, then carefully, deliberately pushed the grey tails of his vest back until they split, and fell on either side of his body. 

"I've always liked this one you. The colours are a very good compliment with your own. But the red..." Harrow trailed his fingers along the top of Viren's pants. They slid slowly around his body, and methodically, deliberately pulled the lacing open. 

Harrrow, his King, ran both hands over Viren's hips, slow and possessive, and pulled his pants down with equal slowness until they were halfway down his thighs. 

He took Viren's small clothes down in the same gesture, leaving him bare to his King. His cock, weeping and flushed, hung heavy with his own shameful desire. 

Viren covered his face with his hands, breath stuttering. 

Harrow's hands were so hot on his bare skin. He cupped Viren's cheeks, then squeezed them.   
"This is my favorite look. Your bare skin, framed by the red." His voice was rough. 

His legs shook. Inside his clothes, his nipples pebbled, rubbing against his shirt. Viren panted, open mouthed, with anticipation.  
Harrow spread him, his sword callouses rough against Viren's cheeks, thumbs stroking along his perineum gently, but just hard enough to send sparks inside Viren, make him twitch. 

He expected him to spit on his hole, work a finger inside him. Open Viren for his own use. 

He didn't expect Harrow to spread his hole with his thumbs. Or the hot tide of Harrow's breath, before the liquid touch of his mouth; an intimate kiss, too intimate, too filthy for his King-  
Viren startled forward, but Harrow followed him, and his beard, rough against Viren's delicate private skin, and his tongue, pushing past Viren's hole to spear inside him- 

Viren leaned on folded arms and moaned brokenly, unable to find his voice to protest this lewdness, this action too lowly for Harrow's station. Harrow's strong hands massaged his ass, and his thumbs worked Viren's hole open, holding him wider for Harrow's greedy tongue to lick deeper into his body.

It was hot and wet, and Harrow kept making these noises like he was having the most wonderful feast, noises that vibrated against Viren's most sensitive parts as Harrow's spit slid down between his legs to drip down his sack, and Viren's cock wouldn't stop leaking. 

Had Harrow's tongue always been this long? His thumbs worked farther inside Viren, holding open his hole, and Viren moaned and shook, quaked under his King's touch. 

His skin burns from the scratch of Harrow's beard, and he's so close, almost there, but Harrow's tongue doesn't reach deep enough to that spot inside him. Viren squirms and pants, and has to remind himself that all this is for Harrow, to serve and please his King- Viren's pleasure is second to his, and Harrow is very pleased. 

But his squirming increases, short, needy noises rising more and more, until he can't help himself.  
"Harrow, please!" Viren would have winced at the whine in his voice, but he was busy restraining himself from shoving himself back on his sovereign's tongue.

Harrow pulled back. He laughed breathlessly, as Viren felt the immediate loss of his mouth.

"I was wondering when you would ask." 

Again, he didn't get what he expected. He thought that Harrow had given him so much, surely now it would be his time; Viren expected the thick heavy heat of his cock, splitting him open. To be stretched too wide too soon, and was prepared for that.

So two fingers sliding inside him, working his wet hole slowly and brushing that spot with experienced accuracy was surprisingly enough to have him seeing stars, groaning Harrow's name. Viren pushed himself back on Harrow's hand, hot, skin so very hot.   
"Please, please, Harrow-I'm so close, please-" he begged, practically fucking himself on Harrow's fingers. 

It no longer mattered that he was bent over the throne, by his King. That anyone could walk in. He was so close to finishing. 

Three of Harrow's fingers I side him, moving fast, stretching his rim, rubbing his body just right. It was easy, with how wet he was, from Harrow's spit- from having his King's tongue, in his a-ass,  
Viren came messily, all over the red seat of Harrow's throne, with a sharp cry, and a broken moan of Harrow's name. 

Harrow, however, kept going, driving Viren's body farther and farther until he was clawing at the seat, the attention too much. 

"H-Harrow," he gasped.

"Viren," Harrow purred, bending over his back to gently wipe the sweat from Viren's face.   
"We aren't done yet, darling."


End file.
